


Pontchartrain

by catiemo



Category: Supernatural, ludo - Fandom
Genre: Gen, Inspired by Music, Ludo - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-09
Updated: 2013-09-09
Packaged: 2017-12-26 03:17:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,404
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/960957
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/catiemo/pseuds/catiemo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam and Dean decide to investigate the mysterious Lake Pontchartrain</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pontchartrain

**Author's Note:**

> inspired by the song by Ludo.  
> Seriously, go listen to Ludo

            “I think I’ve found something,” Sam said, shoving his computer toward Dean. “Lake Pontchartrain, Louisiana. Guy in a psych ward after his friends drowned mysteriously in a freak thunderstorm.”

            “You thinkin’ demons?” Dean seemed skeptical, “drownin’s not really their style.”

            “Yeah, I’ve been looking into that. Less than an hour before the vics drowned, some kids hi-jacked a radio signal and broadcast this.”

            Sam played the audio file for Dean. It was some off-key singing that said “Come down to Lake Pontchartrain/ Rest your soul and feed your brain/ That's where you will get to see everything the water can be.”

            “Seems threatening,” Dean observed. “So this was definitely pre-meditated. They didn’t just wander across some vengeful spirit.”

            “One way to find out. Grab your stuff and let’s hit the road.”

 

            The drove down 55, the Impala practically purring the whole way.  They stopped at a roadside diner where their overly-friendly waitress recommended the crawfish. “Actually,” Dean said, “that sounds great.”

            “I’ll have the chef’s salad,” Sam said.

            “You are such a chick,” Dean said once the waitress was out of ear shot. Sam ignored the comment and flipped through John’s journal again. “Dude, you’re not going to find it in there. I don’t think this is anything we’ve seen before.”

            “But there are so many things that it’s close to; maybe it’s related to something.”

            Their food came and they enjoyed their meal mostly in silence. When the waitress brought Dean a slice of pie, he went into hunter mode. “Listen, do you know anything about the drowning that happened here a few days ago?”

            “Yeah, guys were in here just before the storm hit. I think they were from Missouri or something.”

            “Don’t seem too shocked about it.”

            “Well I guess the shock wore off. Those poor guys; I wish they would have stayed until the storm passed.”

            “I didn’t think anyone had predicted the storm,” Sam questioned.

            “Why are you asking me all of this?” She seemed worried.

            “Agents Rose and Tyler,” he said, Dean catching on and flashing his badge almost in sync with Sam. “FBI.”

            “Well I’m sorry agents, but that’s really all I remember. I don’t really pay much attention to the weather so all storms are a surprise to me.”

            “Well thank you for your time,” Sam set some cash on the table and the brothers took their leave.

 

            As they drove back to the motel, it started to rain. “Uh…Dean,” Sam said.

            “Yeah, Sammy, I see it.”

            “Just, be careful, okay?”

            “I know how to drive a damn car!”

            A man jumped onto the hood of the Impala and started screaming “Come down to Lake Pontchartrain. Rest your soul and feed your brain. Free for you and all your friends. Crawfish 'til the bitter end. Come down to Lake Pontchartrain. Wade to where the shallows break. That's where you will get to see everything the water can be.”

            Dean sped up, knowing full well that the man wasn’t human, or at least not totally human. The man eventually slid off the car and the brothers took a moment to freak out. “What the hell?” Sam asked. “Do you think that happened to the other guys?”

            “Well, we’ll see when we talk to Looney Tunes. More importantly, did you hear what he was saying?”

            “Yeah, same stuff that was playing on the radio.”

            “Except it wasn’t; dude said something about crawfish.”

            “You don’t think it has anything to do with the crawfish you ate, do you?”

            “I don’t know, but I bet you if we asked the guy what his buddies ate, he’ll say it was the crawfish.”

            They managed to make it back to the motel without another incident and Sam decided to give Bobby a call. “Hey, Bobby, we’ve got a situation in Louisiana we’d like you to look into. Two guys drowned last week in a freak storm. The guy who was with them is in a mental ward. Haven’t talked to him yet, but we’re fairly sure he’s not going to give us very much information. We just got a taste of the crazy he must have experienced; some guy on the hood of the car screaming at us about the lake. We’re thinking it has something to do with the crawfish Dean ate.”

            “Which lake?” Bobby seemed interested.

            “Lake Pontchartrain.”

            “Ya Idjit. Don’t you know that’s a breeding ground for water sprites?”

            “Water sprites?” Sam was confused, “I didn’t know they existed.”

            “Well, they do. They’re like sirens but they use food to mark their victims and then lure them into the water where they drown themselves. They must have help somehow to get the food to people. They can’t leave the water.”

            “Okay, we’ll investigate the diner, but more importantly, how do we kill a sprite?”

            “Short of draining the damn lake, you can’t. They can only die at the hand of one of their own. You cut off the food supply and they’ll resort to cannibalism.”

            “Okay, thanks Bobby.”

            “So, water sprites?” Dean was holding back a laugh.

            “Yup; so I think maybe we find out who’s supplying the crawfish to the diner, stop them and cordon of the lake.”

            “Except it’s really only temporary; the sprites will find a new bitch eventually.”

            “Well we can’t drain the lake, Dean.”

            “And we don’t have the time to waste making sure they all kill each other.”

            “Maybe we can get some hunter close by to keep an eye on things? Do we know anyone in the area?”

            “I’ll ask around.”

            They eventually found a hunter a few miles from town and told him about the situation. “We’ll take care of cutting of the supply, you just keep an eye out afterward,” Dean explained over the phone.

 

            The next morning they went back to the diner and asked for the manager, who sat them down at a table to answer their questions. “We just need to know where you get your Crawfish,” Sam explained.

            “Oh, well he’s just a local fisherman who said he needed a little extra money. Why, is there something wrong with them?”

            “Actually, yes,” Dean said, “I had them last night, and well, there were signs that they might have been collected in polluted waters, so we just wanna make sure this doesn’t happen to anyone else.”

            “Of course, here, let me get you his contact information.”

            “Thanks, we appreciate it.” Sam said. He was starting to think this case was going to wrap up pretty quickly. They left with an address and a promise that the diner wouldn’t serve anymore crawfish.

            When they got to the small, seemingly uninhabited shake near the shore of the lake, they grabbed some guns from the trunk and checked out the run-down building. When they didn’t find anyone inside, they looked out the rear window. “You see anyone out there?” Sam asked.

            “I see a boat coming toward shore. Think that’s our guy?”

            “You think anyone else would be out there?”

            “Well, let’s go greet the son of a bitch.”

            The brothers stood by the shore, shotguns ready, as the boat pulled in. “Hello, gentlemen” said the man on the boat as he got within earshot. “Come now, there’s no need for firearms.”

            “Why don’t you just tell us why you’re consorting with water sprites?”

            “Do I need a reason?” He asked. “They’re beautiful creatures, and without my help, the poor darlings would all die off.”

            “Well, these ‘poor darlings’ kill innocent people with your help, and it’s our job to stop you.” The man was on the shore now, and he showed no sign of fear at the guns that were aimed at his chest.

            “Well then, are you going to shoot me or not? It’s not like anyone’s going to miss me.”

            “You wanna die?” Dean growled.

            “Maybe I do. Maybe these creatures are the only thing that gave me purpose. Ever think of that?”

            “Well, you asked for it,” Dean leveled the gun, squeezed the trigger, and it was over.

 

            “Dude’s almost as bad as a witch,” Dean said, eyeing the corpse.

            “Could have been worse,” Sam said. In a coordinated effort that could only come from years of working together, the brothers dumped the body in the lake. The drove off as Sam made calls to secure the lake for a few days and the boys let themselves relax a little knowing the job was done.


End file.
